Running, Jumping, Dodging - The Past Two Weeks In Review.

So, the past week or two has been crazy busy for me. So much has happened or is still happening. I feel like I'm constantly on the run, going from one place to he next, catching trains, racing in cabs, leaving one joint to get to another, all in the process of meeting the many obligations which I've committed myself to. I am a man in motion. And honestly, I love it. I love being busy. I feel alive and vital.

Here are a bunch of quick updates on what I am talking about.

Fugue.
After the show, the cast of "97 Bulldogs" admitted that they call our show "Fugued" (pronounced "Fyoo-ged"), which is pretty funny.
The show opened on Wednesday to a decently sized audience. (I was very happy to see Ryan and Jammerz there in the house. Although, I didn't get a chance to see if anyone else that I know was there.)
The show went well(ish). It was a solid B+. There were some tentative scene starts and a few of them spun-out, focusing on a single topic or activity over and over again (Don calls it "getting stuck in the loop" and I think that's an applicable title), but overall, we were very happy with the results.
And yes, the opening was a little wierd for the audience, but I think that they slowly got into it. And I heard over and over again, "Once I got onboard with what you were doing, I was really actively engaged. There was a lot to look at and take in." Which was what we were hoping for.
Pre-show, I was wandering around backstage, wearing a sharp looking suit, humming "Come Fly With Me" to myself and it ocurred to me that THIS was what I like my own improv to feel like. Looking as sharp as genetics and bad diet will let me, feeling as smart and as alive as I can feel, ready to challenge and entertain an audience. For this, I give up on kids, domesticity, predictability and security. It's a good life and I'm lucky to live it.
Oh, and after the show, we all went to Joey's Brickhouse for cocktails and burgers. Everyone was buzzing from the show. We kept talking about it, processing the show over and over again. We complimented each other and Don. And he was clearly thrilled with what we gave him. I think we all agreed that there's a little room for improvement. So, we're chomping at the bit to try it again, this time with confidence and experience.
At the bar, Don Hall said something that really moved me and I want to share it here. I'll just try to recreate what he said.
"Jen and I were talking about the show and I told her that I had individual goals for each cast member. She asked me what my goal was for you and I told her, "I want [Mr.B] to know that I saw 'The Monday Show'."
Meaning that he wanted me to know that he saw it and appreciate what we were doing with that show, agreed with our philosophy about improv, and used a bit of it when directing this show. And that's huge to me. Someone processing and incorporating your show ideas into their own. It means a lot to me, to have my show, appreciated like that.
I think Don would've probably incorporated some "Monday Show" elements into his own show, whether I was in the cast or not. I'm just incredibly lucky to BE IN the show that has a taste of my show in it, too.
He and I agreed that they were two different songs on an "Improv The Way We Would Like To See It" album. Similar in style, but original on their own.
So, that made my night.

Sicker and Sicker.
I think that this show is going to happen, actually. The word is out that we're up and running. The cast is set for the Free Preview and I'm already looking ahead to Spring of next year.
Yesterday, I printed up the proto-posters for the show and posted them in the PG bathroom and in the display box. I want to hit IO and post a few there, too. Just to drum up interest in the community for the preview show.
I also listed the show in Metromix and will be adding it to the Reader's show listings too. And today, I'm sending out an email blast to all of my email buddies to let them know about the show. Why not? Who doesn't like sick stories?
There's always more you can do to promote your show.
In a wierd way, I feel like I'm doing this for the first time, all over again. It's been 2 years since I produced something. And each day, I think, "Oh yeah, I probably SHOULD create a press release/email friends/update the MySpace page/ collect MySpace Friends/etc." All stuff I already knew to do. I just remember it in a random order.

Monday Pictures Presents...
Monday Pictures is kicking into gear again.
I think we were all a little stunned to be losing Bob and Stacey so quickly. But now that they're safely in Portland, setting up shop there, we're getting back together and making short films again.
For easy reference to what I'm talking about, why not try clicking on the new "Monday Pictures" button in my sidebar and taking a looksee at some of what we have been working on.
We've recently added one new member to the team, "Scott". And we're finally shooting Erin's "Pizza Guy" idea, on Labor Day. My old college friend, Stacy, is stepping in as the "Girlfriend". It'll be fun to play with her, again.
Matt and I are talking about an ambitious little short film that we want to work on, next called, "Letting Go" which is about death, grieving, Hendo and the biggest shit that a mortal man has ever experienced. More on that, later.
It's nice to see that group is still going, despite the loss of two of our key players.

Workshopped.
Next weekend, the day after I open "SFS", I begin my first workshop in...um...what?...three or four years? I have Dina Facklis, Paul Grondy, Holly Laurent and Pat O Brien. I am particularly looking forward to working with Paul Grondy again. He's one of the best teachers I ever had.
I am also excited about the "Mock Second City Auditions" that the workshop offers. I am coming up on my first potential SC audition ever. And I'm hungry for it. I want it, badly! This feels like the first step in the right direction. I'm VERY interested to see what that "mock audition" has to offer me.

Kissed on The Gaza Strip.
Maybe it's the summer.
Maybe it's my inherit sexiness.
But there's been a whirlwind of Romantic Activity around me.

One lovely lass has smiled up at me with lovely blue eyes and offered to "TF" me. (Don't know what a "TF" is? Email me and I'll let you know.)
I don't know if she meant the offer to actually stand, but Lord, I DID consider it.

Another lovely lass from the distant past is moving to Chicago, this fall. I don't know what designs she has for me, but it can't be good. I think that she aims to get me naked and wrestle me to the ground. Which could be fun.

Another lovely lass that used to come to my apartment and do nasty, terrible things to me has begun popping up again in latenight emails and phone calls and text messages. They never outright offer another night of rolling and tumbling, but I can't help but think that the offer is just...right....there, on the edge of her messages. Unspoken, but undeniably there.
Which is fine. We maintain a tentative cease-fire here.
But if she ever DOES speak it, if she ever DOES make the offer, I will have to go to her apartment and do nasty, terrible things to her. That's just the way that works.

Another lovely lass gets as close to me as she will permit herself to and then walks away, hands shaking and heart racing. I don't think she wants to "sex me up", so much as she wants to kiss me and press our two bodies together. But she's got prior obligations going and I think we're in agreement that those plans should take priority.
There IS something exciting, though, about looking at a woman and seeing her that "turned on" by something I did or said or something that she perceived that I did or said.
Very nice.

And yet another lovely lass, different from the others altogether, has wrapped her long arms around me and whispered things to me that soothed me and kissed me on the temple of my forehead and said, "This is mine. This area right here. I am claiming this. The Gaza Strip of your head. And I'm just going to kiss it for a bit and it's going to be okay. Okay?" And she did.
And standing there, in the hallway of the restaurant, outside the bathrooms, while friends busily rushed past us to sneak a peek and make sure that everything was all right, we stood and hugged and she kissed me and I thought to myself, "Women are the mercurial waters of the world. It doesn't matter how hard I think I am. Or how jagged I think my edges are. There isn't a shape or a form that I can emotionally take that can't be swallowed up by a woman, who is sufficiently deep enough. She just keeps going and going. Endlessly deep." And I just relaxed and let myself be kissed on The Gaza Strip, with no thoughts of what it meant or where things were going or any of the other things that I normally think about. I just surrendered to her and that's where we stood. For a very long time.

I don't know what any of this will come to. I can't tell you what these women will mean to my life, in a week, or a month, or a year from now. But I can tell you that things are very interesting, right now. I literally never know what's going to happen from one moment to the next and that's absolutely thrilling.

The New Job.
The New Job has more "better" days and fewer "fucking terrible" days, than it used to. I am taking this as a sign that I am getting slowly better at this gig. And that the ladies are growing to appreciate me more and more.
One of the ladies is going to be a grandmother, this Labor Day weekend. I took the initiative on my own and bought a nice cinammon, crumble cake and left it in the breakroom for all four of us to enjoy. And I got loads of compliments on that. I think it went a long way to assuring them that I'm a valuable commodity. And worth keeping around, for as long as they possibly can.
I am winning them over with cake and diligence.
In that order.


A Quick Fiscal Report.
Well, things are slowly turning around. I am digging my way OUT of the hole that June put me in. Two very good friends of mine loaned me the cash to get through that down-swing and I keep my debts to them on a post-it note, here, next to my computer. It feels good to direct some cash to them. To begin paying those bills off.
I get the same rush by paying back a debt, that I used to get, scouring Used Music Stores for good deals on cheap DVDs.
I haven't bought a DVD for myself since December. Nine months.
I think my fiscal appetites are changing.

Maggie Wets The Bed.
One unusual side effect of this whole "Paralyzed Dog" story is that the steroids have made Maggie thirsty all the time. Before the accident, before my dog "got hooked on the junk", she would go through a bottle of water in two days. After she got her Cortizone injection, she was going through two bottles a day. Which is a lot of water for such a little dog. Naturally, we had a few accidents.

Seven of them, actually.

In less than a week.

Seven times that Maggie would just stop walking, look up at me apologetically and then pee all over the place.

Nasty, nasty stuff.

It was frustrating. Lord, it was frustrating. But I didn't paddle her or chastise her for it. She literally couldn't control herself. And she knew that it was bad, because she would immediately run and hide, in anticipation of the scoldings that Puppy Maggie got. So, I would clean it up and run through nearly an entire roll of paper towels and soak the damp spot with loads of "pet urine deoderizer". Each and every time. I can't bear the thought that my apartment, which already smells like dog and sweaty dudes, would also smell like dog whiz. So, the cleanings were immediate and thorough.

So, I am embarrased to say that it took me nearly a week to think about rationing her water. When she was drinking as much as she was, I would go fill it up every time that I saw that the bowl was empty. And that's how the dog got access to two bottles of water a day. My fault entirely.

Now, I give her half a bottle at the start of the day. And another half of a bottle when I get home in the afternoon. It's still a whole bottle, but it's spread out over a whole day. And so she's now able to hold it until she gets her walkies. Which have increased to 3 or 4 a day, now.

Better Living Through Pet Management.

Oh and for those who are looking for an update, she's back at 100% mobility. No need for surgery (this time). I am better about keeping her from jumping up and down on the furniture. She gets lifted into bed and back down on the floor and that's going to be the plan, for now on.

In Closing...

Fuck. I feel like there's more. A lot more that I am not doing an adequate job of capturing here. There are things that I want to tell you and I can't organize them enough to get them into this emailed update.

Ah well. What's to be done?

I'll post this now and if something else pops up, I'll drop it in here as an addendum.

This is how things are for me.
How are they for you?

From Don Hall's sick colon to your ears!

Well, the cast is set for the Free Preview of "The Sickest F***ing Stories I Ever Heard."

Me.
Fuzzy.
Greg.
Ryan G. (this is the only show that this particular fuck-face can make.)
and
Don Hall.

Don is one of the creators of the original show. So, we felt that it was appropriate to have him smash a beer bottle over the bow of our sick little ship and give it a proper launching.

Speaking of which, the FREE F***ING PREVIEW(I think that's how I'm going to market it.) is in two weeks. Cuh-rist! Looks like this thing is going to happen.

Greg is working on poker tables and chips and cards.
I'm working on the pre-show and curtain music.
We have a beer sponsor now. (I shit you not. Free beer once a month to promote the show. Much love to Megan, Hendo and the BBR girls for helping broker that deal.)
Edison is working on our logo for us.
Which means that the banners are not far away. The posters are on my computer, waiting to be printed out.

But most especially of all, there's the webpage - which Fuzzy recently revamped from the ground up. It's MUCH, MUCH prettier. And chockful of information, including past reviews, cast lists and a place for pictures, etc. I can't wait to keep dumping info into that bad boy.

You should probably check it out for yourself, by clicking the new "SICKEST F***ING STORIES" button which I now conveniently provide in my sidebar in the "See My Shows" section. (And while you're over at the website, why not send us an email, asking to be in the show. We're ALWAYS looking for sick people to come play with us.)

Now, I'm REALLY feeling sick!

Cheers,
Mr.B

Fugue Opens Tonight.

So, tonight at 8pm, Fugue opens at The Theater Building.

Tickets are usually $12 ($10 for students and people who use my code "OWEN21") In addition to the show opening, tonight is also "Industry Night" where you can tell the Box Office person that you're in the Entertainment Industry and you get in for $3, which is a ridiculously low price. $3 is "Sheer Curiosity Price". If you're just "curious" about the show, but not enthusiastic to see it, you can pay $3 and not feel like a chump about it.

I've been going back and forth about whether I should recommend this show to people. On the one hand, it's been exceptionally good in rehearsals, like "TJ and Dave" level good. With big, meaty scenes of comedy and drama. Some Heart-Breaking scenes and some Spirit-Lifting scenes and some Gut-Busting scenes. Nothing is done small, except for the Small Things, which are done as small as you would want them to be. And there are also interesting verbal and stage-picture games going on, too. The show runs on many, many different levels. Which is thrilling for an artists, and I think, an audience, too.

But on the other hand, I have some concerns about the show too. It's our first time performing it in this radically different space. And I have to wonder how all that space and all of that dead air are going to influence the performers. For some of the cast, this is also their first show or damned near their first show and I know that they're really anxious and nervous about this. How will that translate to stage, too? And I have to wonder if this sort of improv is going to be well-received or not. It's heavy and densly-packed and intense and just as alive as life, itself. Is that the sort of experience that the audience will be open too? Or do they just want funny bits with a dog, and pants-falling-down?

These are my concerns about the show. Not that it's good. I know that it's good. But that it will translate from the safety of Room #1 in Gill Park to the GIGANTIC performance space of The Theater Building. And will the audience accept this type of work?

What an exciting set of problems to have.

Just by the fact that I'm worrying about THIS and not whether my "giant butt-face headpiece is going to come un-glued" tells me that I'm working on just the sort of theater that I want to be working on.

And that it might be heading in just the direction that I want it to be heading. Which is "away from what else is being produced at other theater's in the city right now".

This show is Something Different.
If you're as hungry for Something Different, as I am, then this show is for you.
And if you're just a little bit curious about it, then come see it tonight. A night when you couldn't possibly feel bad about the $3 admission fee.

I guess I AM recommending it after all.

GO see "Fugue".



Here's the pertinent show info:

FUGUE
WEDNESDAYS @ 8PM
AUG 29 - OCT. 24 (NO SHOW ON OCT. 10)
$12 TICKETS ($2 DISCOUNT FOR STUDENTS & PEOPLE WHO USE MY CODE "OWEN21".
DIRECTED BY DON HALL
PRODUCED BY THEATER MOMENTUM.
FEATURING MR.B, MATT DEVINE, LISA FAIRMAN, KRISSY KAVANAUGH. DEANNA MOFFITT, JESSICA SCHLOBOHM, TONY RIELAGE, & SCOTT WHITEHAIR
OUR MARKETING MATERIAL SAYS: "Fugue captures the essence of a musical fugue as four scenes interweave on stage to a soundtrack of jazz, opera, movie scores and more."

Fall Into Change.

Yesterday, I found myself sitting on a train, which was parked at the Fullerton El stop.

The CTA had suffered one of their many breakdowns and our train sat, motionless, doors open, at the new Fullerton stop.

The Fullerton stop is being renovated. The entire area is lined in orange, construction mesh. The tired old el structures are long gone. In it’s place, is the gun-metal grey shell of the new el platform structure. It’s a cold, skeletal, steel. I don’t know if they’re going to cover it or paint it or just leave it exposed in the carefree design aesthetic that is so popular in the city’s many Chipotles.

It looks unfinished.
In a state of flux.
A work in progress.

I think about the old, gothic, DePaul basketball gym that they tore down to build the new station and I can’t help but reflect on what was lost. That thing looked like a church. With it’s long, thin, gothic windows and the spires and gargoyles. I didn’t even know it was a basketball gym until they tore the building open during demolition, exposing the smooth, tan, wooden basketball floor to the sun for two or three days, until that was gone too.

The overhead covering is finally finished at Fullerton. Which is nice. It means that commuters aren’t going to get rained on anymore, while waiting for their train to come. It’s a small sign that this plan is going to happen. That progress is being made. Change is slowly coming. As inevitable as the pee-smelling car on the Redline. It’s coming for you.

So, while I sat there, looking up at the new roof, sitting in a car that was now parked right where the old basketball hoop used to be, I had a chance to reflect on the changes that are happening in my life, too.

Bob and Stacey are gone now.
They’ve been in Portland for a few days now, setting down the spikes of their theater company, moments before the raise the center pole and set up camp. I bet they’ve already had their first auditions.

I miss them fiercely.

Ryan is leaving soon, too.
At Garcia’s the other night, he casually mentioned that he’d picked his “Move to L.A. date”. Sept. 1. A week away. Less than a week, actually. I looked down at my dinner and thought, “Fuck. I don’t think I am ready for that. I am not ready for these long conversations about art and writing to end.” But I just smiled back at him and said, “Good for you. This is going to be a great opportunity for you.” Because it will be. He can do big things there. Things that he can't do, if he stays here.

I am going to miss him too.

Matt Rossi called me yesterday, as a kindness, to offer me his tv set. He knows that Joe doesn’t have one in his bedroom and since Matt won’t be taking his tv with him to New York, next week, Joe is welcomed to it. Matt is moving to New York City to get his graduate degree at Columbia University. Another big step for another friend of mine.

I will miss him too.

So much change in such a short time. People seem to be leaving. Going off, looking for something that they’re missing.

Maybe it’s this time of year. The slow transition from summer into fall. A time for a person to make the big changes in their lives. Traditionally, this was when you would begin a new school year. A pattern that most of us weathered for 13 years or more. Maybe it implants that urge onto our psyche and as the weather cools off, we begin to naturally think, “Well, time to pack a lunch, buy some books and get ready to go back for another year of figuring things out all over again.”

For those of us who are not changing, who have found the thing that we were missing, it’s a sad time. A time to mark the departures of old friends. And to note that the good life that we enjoy here, which is so vibrantly colored by the personalities of the amazing people around us, is a little bit diminished by their loss.

This is a selfish thing to think. That “my life is a little bit lessened by your absence”. It ignores the good things that wait out there for these brave explorers. It’s nakedly self-centered. And I am a little ashamed to being feeling it as much as I do.

But then, I can only consistently see my own point of view. My only reference point is my own experience. And while I sat there on the train, neither moving forward, nor backwards, I could not deny that things were changing around me. And whether these changes were a good or bad impact on the quality of my life, did not affect their inevitability one bit.

The BBR Candygrams.

In the past month, both Paris Green and Jack Midnight have been featured in the Candy Pitch's "Better Know a Burlesque Performer" series, The Candygram!

Click on their names to read their interviews.

It's always nice to see these finer performers getting a little attention in the burlesque community. As far as Chicago burlesque goes, I think we're the highest profile show in town. In fact, if you Google, "Chicago Burlesque" we're mentioned pretty prominently on the first two sites that come up.

This show keeps on growing and evolving. I can't wait to see where it goes next.

Cheers,
Mr.B

PS. I mentioned that there's a BBR show this Saturday night, at the Playground, didn't I?
Well, I did NOW!
You can reserve your tickets, here!

"A Love Poem" by Garrison Keillor.

Last Saturday, August 11th, Garrison Keillor read a poem that he wrote for his cousin, Helen Marie, on her 40th wedding anniversary. I think it's lovely. I thought you might like it too.

When you read it, take your time with it.
Digest each line slowly and patiently and take them in.
When you get to the end, you'll know what he's trying to say.

A Love Poem

A summer night, and you, and paradise,
So lovely and so full of grace,
Above your head, the universe has hung its lights,
And I reach out my hand to touch your face.

I believe in impulse, in all that is green,
Believe in the foolish vision that comes true,
Believe that all that is essential is unseen,
And for this lifetime I believe in you.

All of the lovers and the love they made:
Nothing that was between them was a mistake.
All that is done for love's sake,
Is not wasted and will never fade.

All who have loved will be forever young
and walk in grandeur on a summer night
along the avenue.
They live in every song that is sung
and every painting of pure light
and every Pas De Deux.

O love that shines from every star,
Love reflected in the silver moon;
It is not here, but it's not far.
Not yet, but it will be here soon.

I know who that poem makes me think of.
Who does it make you think of...

GO SEE "THE KING OF KONG"

I know, I know, this blog has become a tired commercial for movies and a litany of dog ailments, but bare with me, I've seen a few REALLY good movies recently and I want you to know about them.

Tonight, Greg and I went and saw "The King of Kong" at The Landmark Century, here in Chicago. For those who don't know anything about the movie, here's the trailer. Watch it and then catch back up to me...



Now then, on one level this is a documentary about two guys who are both really REALLY good at Donkey Kong. Which is sort of a ridiculous, useless skill to have.

And that's pretty funny.

They're members of an elite club of social misfits who are still obsessed with these classic arcade games, 20 years after they were popular. People like Mr. Awesome and the third best Donkey Kong player and the guy who's REALLY good at Centipede.

And that's absolutely absurd.

But on another level, the film documents one guy's struggle to beat a high score that was set on Donkey Kong, twenty years ago. By a guy who's still mooching off that accomplishment in every possible way. The guy who's trying to beat him is a guy who never really was "the best" at anything, all though, he's tried lots of things. It seemed to him that he could play a video game really, really well, couldn't he?

That's interesting.

But he can't. He beats the record score once and is disqualified for nefarious reasons (by the guy whose score he beat). And he beats it again, in legal, sanctioned, observed, public conditions. And even THAT is taken away from him by that other guy (in a very questionable manner). We watch as the first guy gets close twice and then that's taken away from him, each time.

And that's excruciating.

And finally, this same guy, who gave up already, agrees to get back into the competition and then makes a bid for his place as the World Champion in the Guinness Book of World Records. He does his best, constantly trying to get the former champ to come out and play against him, head to head. Only the champ refuses to play against him.

And that's suspicious.

Some other things happen. I won't ruin them for you. I don't want you to know if the underdog in this movie ever gets the high score or not.

But I DO want you to go and see it for yourself. Experience the visceral reality of of these events unfolding in front of your eyes. Cheer for the hero and Boo the bad guy and see what a hero does, when the odds are against him, nobody wants or expects him to win, and he keeps on climbing those girders, jumping those barrels and hammering those fireballs to get to the top...and defeat the monkey in the necktie.

This isn't a movie about Donkey Kong.
Or the boys who play it.
It's about integrity and the men who have it.
Or who absolutely don't.

GO SEE "THE KING OF KONG"

Oh, and the guy that I was referring to, your new hero, his name is Steve Wiebe and that's him in the picture below, chasing down that world record.

In his garage.

On his own Donkey Kong console.

SUPERBAD is SUPER-AWESOME.

Hey gang,

Ryan and I checked this out on Sunday evening and it's as good as people say it is. I really dug it. I ended up laughing throughout the whole movie. So, go see it.

Seriously, it's A LOT of fun!

Now, go see it, so that we can come back here and talk about it.

(A slightly more detailed discussion, with some spoilers is below the poster. Consider yourself warned.)



Some of my favorite moments:
Seth and the soccer balls.
"I have a boner".
"Well, funny thing about my back is...it's located on my c**k."
The baseball bat hitting Seth in the back.
The laundry detergent plan.
Evan singing.
"Um, it's 10:30."
Evan punching Whatserface in the tit.
Seth's entire story about why he hates her. (And the post credits montage.)
The whispered "I love you."
Evan's shitty cell phone reception.
McLovin and the cops (all of it. What a GREAT side-plot.)
"Should I run?" "YES!"

It's so, so, so good.

Go see that movie!

Cheers,
Mr.B

THIS IS THE RED-BAR TRAILER.
WHICH MEANS THAT THE LANGUAGE IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK.
ENJOY IT ANYWAYS.

Maggie Update...

Sorry for not posting this sooner, it's been a busy weekend.

On Thursday, the vet gave Maggie her steroid injection and that has made a HUGE difference. She slept all day long and that evening, when I got back from Open Court, she actually walked across the apartment to meet me. She was a little sluggish and a little wobbly, but she could walk. I couldn't believe it.

And her improvment continued from there...

On Friday, she got tired and walked into the bedroom and jumped up onto the bed, on her own. She also started eating again.

On Saturday, she used the bathroom normally and walked around the backyard, smelling things, which was an improvement.

And yesterday evening, she went down the stairs on her own and slept on the couch again.

Today, she walked the stairs, both up and down, used the bathroom normally, has been eating again and has even ran around the backyard a little bit.

We went from absolute partial paralysis to running around the backyard, trying to bit a butterfly out of the sky.

Amazing.

I've updated the vet on our progress. And we've moved our vet visit back a week to be next Monday, instead of this Monday. He might do an MRI and discuss long term care for her back (as we expect this to happen again). But we're out of the worst part of this and are looking ahead to our future.

I will have her for a few more years, yet.
Which is good, because I really need her.

Thanks again for all of the calls and emails. You guys are amazing friends to me. I really appreciate it.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Rough Day.

It's been a rough couple of days over on this side of the computer screen.

Work is...well...underwhelming. My boss is growing more and more critical of my work pace. I bust my chops from the time I hit the door, to the time that I leave, but there isn't any recognition of that. I make fewer and fewer mistakes, but there also isn't any recognition of THAT, either. (Just an endless re-discussion of the new mistakes that I'm making). This also an office that doesn't always run efficiently and a VERY demanding boss who believes that she and her needs are always going to be more important than anything else that anyone else is doing. Also, EVERY one of her jobs that she gives me is Job Priority #1. I try to guess what order to do them in, but always come up wrong. I think she just likes to complain.

It makes going to work and being at work, difficult. My enthusiasm is waning.

On top of that, cash is a little tight right now. I'm slowly digging my way out of the hole that my work-free May and June got me. But it's a slow, endless process. The end result is, I say "I'd love to do [that fun thing that you just proposed], but I can't. Cash is tight for me" over and over to people. September will be a little better. October might just be A LOT better.

On top of that, Maggie is hurt. It all started on Tuesday evening, when I came home and she didn't come looking for me. Which is a pretty big deal. She likes to see me when I get home. I found her in my room, on the floor, unable to stand. Her front legs were working just fine, but she couldn't get her back legs to stand or walk. She half-drug herself over to the door to see me and I fell down around her, to see what was the matter.
I carried her up into our bed and petted her and soothed her. She shivered a lot and looked into my eyes and tried to tell me that something was very, very wrong and it scared her. But she didn't whimper or cry. Whatever it was, wasn't hurting her. Just paralyzing her.
We went to bed early on Tuesday and I massaged her legs and worked out any kinks that I could find. She could flex her legs fine and again, there was no pain. But she still could barely use them. I ended up carrying her up and down the stairs to pee in the backyard. She was so pitiful. She'd squat down and pee and try to step forward and just slump over and look up at me, as if to say, "Why aren't my legs working right?"

I worked normal hours yesterday. When I got home there was some improvement. Not a lot, but she could stand and wobble around. I decided that I had to take today off and get a vet, and schedule a visit.
A quick websearch found a vet, a block away from my house. A good one. I called last night and left them a message to let them know that we were coming today. I also shifted the budget around to make some cash for this process. I knew this wasn't going to be cheap. I also called in for work, a full night before and notified the temp agency and took it from there.

So, today was a day for cashing a check and getting home to prep for our 2pm vet visit. Maggie napped all day today. But when I left to go to the bank, she crawled into the living room to watch me leave. It was so pitiful. I almost couldn't go and I nearly started crying, walking out the door. You don't ever want to see your loving pet, weak and unable to walk, dragging themselves into the room to keep you from leaving. God, it hurt.

I took a midday call from Megan and I told her a little bit about what was going on. She was super supportive and wanted an update to Maggie's progress. I need to call her later. When I got off the phone with her, she called Hendo and told him what was going on. He was on the road today, doing work with a client up in Beloit. He immediately called me and asked how he could help. He said he would cancel his lunch with his client and be back here by 2pm, to take us both to the vet.

I didn't even have to ask him. He just said he would do it. And he did.

I am sometimes, not a good friend to him. By which, I mean to say, I do not always appreciate how good a friend he is to me.

Fuck, I'm tearing up again.

2pm slowly came around and Hendo got here to take us up to the vet. I carried Maggie down to his car and we put her in the back. I didn't even bother to bring a leash. I knew that she wasn't going to be going anywhere that I didn't carry her. Hendo drove us the block up to the vet. They were very, very close to us.

I carried her inside and all of the vet techs greeted us. They knew her name (and mine) and they knew her problems. They were super supportive. They showed us to a back room and I put her on the floor and started to fill out the information sheet. Hendo hung out in the waiting area for us.

I was nervous. It was the first time that I'd had Maggie in a vet in years. And she's developed a few medical problems, but there was never cash to deal with them properly. So, I felt like a neglectful dad. A poor parent. A lousy pet owner.

But the staff at the clinic put me at ease. They listened as I described what had happened. They asked me about her health problems and I told them. The checked her heartrate. And her mobility. They petted her while I described her sleeping arrangements and her poops and her general health. They were very patient and kind to us both.

Eventually, Hendo came back to where we were and he stuck it out with me throughout the whole process. He was there when we met Dr. Leonard, the vet. Dr. Leonard quickly explained that it probably wasn't a pulled muscle. (Horrible shock #1) He said it probably was much more severe (Horrible Shock #2), most likely a slipped disk and that she would need surgery, right away. (Horrible Shock #3). I asked him if he would do the surgery. He said that he could, but that he shouldn't. That there was a much better neurologist in Northbrook who could and should do it. I asked him how much it would probably cost. He estimated that it would be around $5000. (Horrible Shock #4) I asked him if I could do some sort of payment plan with the neurologist and he said, matter of factly, "No. They don't work that way. You have to pay up front. And it has to happen today or tomorrow."

And there it was.

A $5000 surgery that she had to have, that I couldn't afford.

Or what? What was the alternative?

I could hear the sound of my soul walking through the rooms of my mind and my heart, turning off the equipment and closing the doors behind him. Dr. Leonard took Maggie off to be x-rayed and I sank down into my chair, defeated.

I couldn't pay that.
My dog was going to die.
Maybe not today. Maybe tomorrow, whenever I schedule it. But I can't afford to pay for her surgery. So, I have to euthanize her, I guess.

Bits and pieces of me began to fall off the shelves and I began the slow, shuddering process of total emotional meltdown.

Maybe Hendo could see it on my face. The shock and anger and defeat. He started asking me questions...

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Where are you going to get the money?"

"I don't know."

"What will you do if you can't afford this?"

"I don't know."

"Get up. Start calling people. Call your parents." he said. And that's what I did. My mom makes more money than my dad does. So, I knew that was my best bet. I'd already called her and asked her to be on call for me. So, she knew the call was coming.

She couldn't afford it either. It's complicated, but her assets are all tied up, right now. Hendo looked at me and said, "I can't afford something like that, either." Again, I didn't even need to ask. But he was right there, ready to help, if he could.

The vet came in and said that they were processing her x-rays and mentioned the possibility of a Vet Credit Service. You apply, get a line of credit, which pays the vet and you pay it back. With interest. He had a vet tech print out some information about it. Including the phone number to call to apply.

The whole time, I was walking and talking in slow motion. People would ask me questions like, "Do you want me to schedule the neurologist for today?" and I would say, "Sorry. Hold on for just a second, please." or "What's your social security number?" and I would tell them. I had the credit company on one phone, my mom on another phone and the vet and the vet techs asking me questions from the front door. I juggled as best as I could, occasionally handing one of the phones off the Hendo, to update my mom on what was going on.

Initially, I got rejected for the credit. (Horrible Shock # Fuck It - It's All Horrible Now) But the phone technician helpfully suggested that I get a co-signer and apply online for the credit. Hendo immediately asked the vet tech if they had a computer that he could use. They set him up with a mac and he went to the website, entering my information and then my mom's information, as she dictated it to me and as I wrote it down. The website said that they needed more information and had a phone number to call. Hendo called them, while I sat on the floor petting Maggie. In my heart, I was thinking that this might be the last time that I ever see her.

The credit company asked Hendo to have my mom call them, asap, to enter some information. I called her and passed her off to Hendo, as Dr. Leonard called me over to another computer to look at the x-rays.

Maggie has a slipped disk. Maybe two of them. It's pretty common for dogs with these long bodies. It happens, as they get older. But the disk in her vertebrae was pressing against the nerves in her spine and it was causing the partial paralysis. Surgery had to be done to relieve the pressure. He volunteered again, at that point, to call the neurologist and schedule the appointment. I left him to do that and went back to my room to see Hendo and Maggie.

Hendo left the room to ask the vet techs something and was there when Dr. Leonard explained to him what the neurologist had said to him. Apparently the neurologist was excited to hear that she only had partial paralysis. In fact, she'd been up and walking around a bit, at the vets. That was a very good sign. He recommended that we give her a Cortisone shot, pump her full of steroids and let her rest. He wanted us to keep her off her feet and let the meds do their work. Who knows, maybe she won't need surgery after all.

The first bit of good news in the whole ordeal.

So, Dr. Leonard and the vet tech held Maggie down and gave her a shot. She didn't whimper or fight. I think she was exhausted by the whole ordeal. He remarked about how impressed that she was as calm as she was.

Dr. Leonard set an appt for us for Monday morning to visit the neurologist out in Northbrook. He gave us pills for her to take, in the meantime. Something to strengthen her immune system and I don't know what the second one does. The vet techs billed me for the service, which came within $10 of being everything that I had on me. And they let us go.

2 hours after I got there.

On my way out, I thanked them for everything that they'd done for us. Dr. Leonard said, "Let's get this taken care of and then bring her back in. She's got a raging ear infection. We can take care of that, too." And that sealed the deal. He knew what was wrong with her. He knew that I knew and he didn't care that it wasn't treated until now. He just wanted to help us take care of it, going forward.

Shortly before we left there, my mom called and said that we'd been approved for credit. So, I'm covered for our visit on Monday to the neurologist. I have to take off work and arrange transportation, but those are small concerns, compared to knowing that it's financially covered.

We got home and I put Maggie to bed. She's been sleeping since then. That was 3 hours ago. I tried to nap, but I couldn't. I couldn't shut my brain off. I called Joe and told him everything that had happened. He said that we would figure out the finances and work it out, together. I called my mom and thanked her for staying by the phone and making all of the calls that she did. I texted Hendo and thanked him for all of his support. When things got really, really bad, Hendo went into crisis-management mode, while I shut down, internally. I can't properly articulate how much he helped me today. I can't imagine what that experience would've been like, without him.

So, that was my day.

Tomorrow is another rough day of work in the office. And then I'm coming home to look after Maggie. Saturday and Sunday are low-cash spending days for me. And then Monday is the visit to the neurologist who may or may not, cut my dog open. If he wants to, I'll let him do it. I'll take on a big financial debt. I'll alter my life to work to pay the bills and take care of it. Because I need that dog. I'm not ready to let her go. I thought about what that would be like, today and the grief was so intense that it nearly shut me down. So, I'll make the time and the cash to take care of her.

I need her too much, not to.

Going back to check on the dog,
Mr.B

Now The Sickness is Online...

I know, I know... it's ANOTHER Sickest Fucking Stories update.

Well, we've made some progress since the last post.

We now have a bastard website. Fuzzy threw it together for us. It's http://www.sickeststories.com/. As he says, "It's not pretty, but it's functional. We'll pretty it up, later." So, keep an eye on that for content updates.

We also have a rudimentary MySpace page now. You can befriend our show, by going here... http://www.myspace.com/sickeststories
I'm going to spend some time with that page tonight, loading "sick" pictures into a gallery viewer. Nothing would make me happier than to have our MySpace viewers assaulted by the horrible and grotesque images that the internet provides. That will be a particularly fun little side project.

Tonight, Greg, Harz and Fuzzy and I are meeting to touch base and see what else needs to happen to prep for our Grande Free Preview. It'll also be the first time that Fuzzy will be introduced to the changes that I want to initially try for the show. Hopefully, none of them will be so alien to the show, that they'll offend him.

Fuzzy also tells me that the show is currently running in Austin, TX. It's organized by Mr. Asaf Ronen. How cool is that? We posted a link to their show info on our modest webpage and they'll be our #1 Friend on the MySpace. I'm all about cross-promotion. Not that it'll send customers to each others shows, but it will help to demonstrate the show's legitimacy. It's a franchise, yal!

Next stop? Exploring the world of Podcasting. (Which will also be handy for the BBR, as it's something that we'd discussed doing for THAT show, too. Two birds, One Stone.)

Did I mention that I'd found Theme Music for the Player Introduction?
I don't want to say what it is, but I WILL say that it's "Zep".

Rock on.
Mr.B

Medellin Trailer is Up!

Check out this hot-ass trailer for Vinnie Chase's next movie, "Medellin". "Queens Boulevard" kicked so much ass! And this is the same actor and the same director! It's going to be bad-ass! The new "Scarface"!

Check out this trailer that they've just leaked for it.



Vinnie Chase can do anything.
First, he made Aquaman cool.
Now, he's making Tony Clifton into a drug-dealing bad-ass.

Incredible.

Cheers,
Mr.B

News Flash: Giant Hot Dog Busted by Chicago Cops.

A co-worker told me about this, so I had to look it up. Judging from the article, everyone is taking this pretty lightly.

Giant Hot Dog Busted by Chicago Cops
The Associated PressFriday, August 10, 2007; 2:46 PM

CHICAGO -- Not even a giant hot dog can escape the long arm of the law.

One of the Oscar Mayer Wienermobiles, a fiberglass behemoth on a national promotional tour, was discovered parked illegally - hazard lights blinking - on a major downtown street.

The violation in a no-parking zone on ritzy Michigan Avenue earned the driver of the 27-foot sausage a $50 ticket.

"The situation was resolved without the use of ketchup, which in Chicago is a big thing," said Matt Smith of the city's Streets and Sanitation Department.

The officer who issued the ticket had already called a tow truck when the driver showed up to claim his fiberglass wiener-on-wheels. "We have access to tow trucks that could have handled a Polish sausage, not just a hot dog," Smith said.

Sydney Lindner, a spokeswoman for Oscar Mayer parent company Kraft Foods Inc., said the Wienermobile, one of several, is traveling the country promoting a contest to sing the Oscar Mayer jingle in a commercial.

She said illegal parking is against company policy, "even if you're driving a company vehicle that's shaped like a giant hot dog."

It's not the first time a Wienermobile has tangled with the law. An Arizona Highway Patrol officer in June found a Wienermobile parked in a Tucson construction zone and ran its "YUMMY" license plate to make sure it was street legal. The plate came back as stolen, but it was just a mix-up with a similar plate that had been stolen from another of the giant hot dogs in Missouri.

Hilarious.

I Think That I Am Going To Be Sick...

A few show updates...

Well, we finaly got clearance from the last show creator. Shaun is on board. Looks like this thing is actually going to happen.

The show now has an email address... SickestStories (at) Gmail (dot) com. I'll let you put that together, if you need to. That small annoyance is in place to keep spambots from stealing the email addy. Point is, the show now has a contact point to begin marketing it.

Next step? MySpace page. That will go live tomorrow.

After that? A Simple webpage to direct audience to the show and answer their questions. (I have a URL that I want. I need to see if I can get someone to buy it for me.)

After that? A press packet and press releases for the opening.

Another aspect of the show that we're currently discussing is podcasting the show. Fuzzy says that it makes him a little uncomfortable. He thinks it'll cause people to edit themselves. I'm hoping that we can get around that, by hiding the mics and not linking people's names to the podcast. It's a little less scary, knowing that your name isn't attached to the nasty shit that you have to say.
It's still a point of discussion. Nothing decided either way about it.
(Secretly, I think it'll help market the show. And it will amass a nice archive of show material for fans to dig through. AND I love the idea of people listening to our nasty shit on the train, on their way to work in the mornings.)

I have a meeting on Tuesday evening with Greg and Fuzzy to think this stuff over and other details.

Greg has suggested two staging ideas that I really like. I'm adopting them immediately. Basically, they're the things that will hang on the curtains (via a hook that will actually attach to the curtain roller and not the curtain material itself) and the thing that we're going to hang on the table. I also want to hang a thing outside the theater, each night, too. More on all of that, later.

I've also begun assembling a Potential Guest List at home. I'm taking names now of people who want to do the show and writing them down, so that I can contact them later. I've also created a spreadsheet with slots for performer names throughout December, 2008. That way, I can look ahead and design "theme nights" to help spice things up. For example, we're doing a Ladies Night in February. (The Month of Love) and I want to do "The Gayest Fucking Stories" around Pride, next year.
It's all about the marketing, people.

Jonathan Pitts and I also chatted about it at Edison's, this past Sunday and he had some EXCELLANT cast suggestions. I am absolutely going to steal them. It was very kind of him to offer up useful suggestions!

If YOU want to be in the show, email the address that I posted at the top of this entry. I'm taking names now.

Poster design is also rolling along, nicely. I just need to get logos from Edison now. I'll need to call him soon and finalize some of that stuff.

Would you like a sneak peek of the poster? Scroll down to the bottom and suck it dry, Interested Readers!

One more thing, we have our Preview Night and Opening Night dates set now.

Sept. 8 is the Free Preview Night.
Oct. 6 is the official Opening Night.

Ticket price is going to be $10. But Friends of the Show will get in for $5. And I'll be giving out 2-for-1s like they're candy!

This show is going to rock!

Cheers,
Mr.B

An Apt Analogy About Improv.

Ryan said this at dinner yesterday:

Bethany used to say this about being Well Known for Improv in Chicago.
"It's like winning the Super-Bowl on Madden Footbally. Sure, it took a little while and you had to be good to get it, but in the real world, who fuckin' cares?"

Touchdown!

Bethany: 1
Improv Snobs: 0

Ryan Knows A Lot About Assholes.

After dinner last night, Ryan and I were walking home, up Lincoln Ave. It was a hot, humid night, because of the rain that we'd had off and on, all day long. We were in the process of figuring out all of the problems of the Improv world, when I said that I needed to stop at the pharmacy.

"That's fine," he said, "What do you need?"

"Castor Oil and Baking Soda." I said. And we walked into the pharmacy, preparing to wander until we found those two things. We kept chatting about improv and improvisers, as we found our way into the medicine section of the pharmacy.

"What is Castor oil, anyways?" he said.

"I dunno. I guess it comes from casters." I said. Immediately, I thought about the casters on the bottom of grocery carts.

"What do you need it for?" he asked.

I avoided looking at him, to scan the shelves. "I don't want to say."

I gave up looking for the product on my own and walked over to ask the helpful pharmacist.

"Hey man," I said. He looked like a nice enough guy. Clean-cut, short brown hair. He had on a tie-died, rock and roll t-shirt under his white, pharmacists coat. The kind of guy you called "man". "Where would I find the Castor Oil?"

"Hmm, good question. I've never looked for it myself. Try over by First Aid." I looked over at the First Aid aisle and gave it a long distance scan. "If you don't find it there, let me know and I'll order it for you. I can have it by Wednesday of next week."

I appreciated the offer but since it wasn't a Castor Oil emergency, expedited shipping wasn't necessary. I shuffled over to the medicine section. Ryan was right there with me.

"So, what IS this for?" he finally asked.

"A personal thing," I said.

"Is it for your asshole?" The pharmacist walked up to us, just as Ryan asked this. He chuckled quietly to himself.

"No man. It's not for my asshole." I said indignantly. My asshole was fine. It didn't need Castor Oil or any other type of oil. My asshole was Jim Dandy.

Ryan turned to the pharmacist and said "Is Castor Oil for your asshole?" He quietly considered the question before he spoke.

"I guess it could be. It is a laxative, after all. But I think you take it orally. It can also be used as an Anti-Inflammatory agent--"

"For assholes." offered Ryan, finishing the pharmacists sentence.

"Sure," he said. "I guess so."

"It's not for my asshole, guys. My asshole is just fine. It's Jim Dandy."

"Well, then what is it for?" And I realize that both the pharmacist and Ryan are looking at me now. I have to come clean or both of them will think it is for my asshole.

"I have skin tags. A few of them. They're relatively small, but they annoy me. I'm going to mix the Castor oil with the baking soda into a paste and apply it to my skin tags until their gone. Castor oil is a light acid."

Ryan looked over at the pharmacist and he agreed. "It's true. It is a natural acid."

"Yeah, but what the Hell are Skin Tags?" asked Ryan.

"They're small skin irregularities. You get them as you get older. Here, I'll show you." And I pulled down my collar and showed him the one on the back of my neck. The pharmacist leaned in to get a good look too.

"JESUS CHRIST!" yelped Ryan. "That's fucking gross, dude."

"No, it's not. It's barely noticeable. It's teeny tiny. You've been around me for years and you've never seen it. It doesn't hurt. It isn't growing. It's just there. And I'm getting rid of it with the Castor oil." The pharmacist had it in his hand. The Castor oil. He'd found it in the laxatives section.

"You know, my mom used Preparation H for the same thing," said the pharmacist.

"For what?" I asked.

"For burning off skin tags. She said that someone had told her about it and so she tried it."

"Did it work?" I asked, considering all options.

"She said it did. You might want to consider getting some Preparation H."

"It's good for assholes too." offered the helpful Ryan.

So, I bought the Castor oil, the baking soda, and two different wart remover kits. A paste and one of those discrete bandage kits. I'm wearing three of the bandages right now. As I type this. Two under my left arm and one under my right arm. According to the instructions, I need to change them in another 24 hours. After the salicylic acid has had time to burn away the excess skin. I'll report back to the blog and let you know how the skin tag removal is going. I'm sure it's just the bracing sort of info that my readers are hungry for.

But just you know this, as I sit here, modern medicine is correcting a few minor flaws that may not mean anything to you, but which have been bothering me for a while now. So much so, that I don't want to be seen without a shirt on. Not because of my size, but because these tiny little genetic markers are just fucking gross and I didn't want anyone to see them. In 48 hours, they'll be a distant memory.

You'll be glad to know that my asshole is also in good, working order.
In fact, it's Jim Dandy.

Little Miss Sunshine.

I finally got around to watching this tonight and I really loved it. So patient and so well-written.

I can see why it was nominated for Best Picture. And Abigail Breslin got a nod for Best Actress. While I can't say if she deserved a win, I CAN say that she definitely deserved a nomination.

And speaking of which, I thought that this was tremendously distracting, the whole time I watched the movie.

SEPARATED AT BIRTH?


I think so.

Great movie.
Go watch it, if you haven't already.

Cheers,
Mr.B

So true, Mr Chueh.

Was googling something else, when I ran into this painting.



It's called "THE THINGS YOU LOVE WILL DESTROY YOU." Apparently he painted it in 2004 and it's since been sold.

It made me smile.

Cheers,
Mr.B